


Practice Makes Perfect

by B_does_the_write_thing



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark Castle, F/M, Prompt Fill, just because he won't use magic to change her doesn't mean he loves her or anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:09:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_does_the_write_thing/pseuds/B_does_the_write_thing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His little maid has taken up singing, too bad she sounds like a mating moose...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Endangeredslug prompted this ficlet and in her honor, I attempted fluff.

“What is that infernal racket?” Jefferson shouted. His hands were scrambling to clamp over the brim of his hat as he strove to cover his ears. With his black rimmed sleep deprived eyes darting around and his nose twitching like a rabbit, the overall effect was rather comical. Turning wild eyes towards the other presence in the room, he demanded shrilly, “Are we under attack?” 

“Ah,” Rumplestitlskin shrugged. His trademark tight smile appeared upon his thin lips as he explained drily, “It’s only the new help.”

"You hired a banshee?" He asked dubiously, wincing as another high note broke over their ears like nails upon a chalkboard. 

"Manners," Rumplestitlskin reminded him harshly. "That's my maid you are insulting." 

Jefferson gaped at him in wordless belief. The song suddenly reached a crescendo of ear piercing shrillness and Rumplestitlskin tutted before waving a hand clockwise towards the stairwell. The singing stopped abruptly as the domino sounds of metallic clatter began to crash down the main hallway. 

“Now, what were you saying?” Rumplestitlskin prompted as if they had not both just been accosted by the land’s worst singing voice.

“You should send her off to the ogre country,” Jefferson said, rubbing his ears dramatically. “They’d all kill themselves within the week.”

“And clean up for myself for a whole week?” He tittered in his signature high-pitched way before he stilled, fixing Jefferson with a deadly glare. “Not on your life.”

Jefferson held up his hands in surrender, shaking his head as he moved back to the business at hand.

“Like I was saying-“

But before Jefferson could continue, another high pitched shrieking attempt at a melody came blasting up through the echoing halls of the Dark Castle. With a groan, the Mad Hatter threw the quill down and buried his head in his arms and he thumped it dully against the tabletop.

As his own ears rang with the ear piercing off key voice of his little maid, he tasted copper in his mouth as he bit his lip to keep himself from covering his own ears. After all, he had been the one to recommend she get a hobby…

Still, there was work to be done. 

With a twist of his fingers, he pictured the large vase that was in the great hall- the one he had gotten from Arendalle all those years ago, and with a mental nudge, caused it to fall from it’s perch to shatter on the stones below.

The singing stopped again. Ignoring Jefferson’s quiet mumblings of thankfulness, he strained his ears to listen in on his little maid as she stopped her dusting in the library to go find out what had fallen this time.

“Three vases in a week,” he heard her murmur in disgruntled exasperation. “Whatever is going on around here? He’s going to think I’m breaking them…”

Mercifully, she seemed too intent on cleaning up the mess than to go back to her practicing.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just enchant her to have a better singing voice,” the man before him complained.

“All magic comes with a price,” he reminded his associate darkly. “I would rather not alter her singing voice and find I’ve also changed the color of her eyes.”

“So, you like her eyes?”

Frowning darkly, Rumplestitlskin ignored him and was able to conclude their business by teatime.

 

Later that evening, as he entered the library, Rumplestitlskin found to his annoyance that his little maid was not at her usual place by the fire. The tea caddy was in place, tea steaming merrily away in the quiet of the library but no maid.

“Over here!” came the welcome voice and he turned to find her up a top of a ladder in the musical section.

“Oh,” he mumbled just as she waved exuberantly with a book she had just pulled form the shelves.

“Rumple, look!” She called down to him. “I found another song book!”

“Goodie,” he mock-cheered back. She pursed her lips at him in good-humored disapproval.

“Don’t be rude,” she chastised as she made her way down the ladder. “Heaven knows why you have all them tucked so far up here out of the way. Took me days to find them again!”

“Magic does what it will, dearie,” he lied through his teeth, whistling innocently as he bounced on his toes. “Never know what it’s going to do!”

“Oh really?” She teased him as she finally reached the floor. He resisted the small inkling of disappointment that she hadn’t fallen again. Not that he wanted her to come to any harm… it was just he rather liked the catching part…

Shaking himself from that line of thought, he cleared his throat as she neared him. “How is the singing going?”

“Great!” Belle enthused as she cracked the book open under his nose. “This book has even more songs than the ones I know from home- with the notes below them! Perhaps some time this week I can sing a few for you after dinner?”

She glanced up at him with those beautiful eyes. They practically shone in the daylight streaming through the recently un-curtained windows. He felt a smile gracing his lips seconds before he caught it and smothered it back down.

“Time willing, dearie!” He chirped, before he headed towards the tea caddy. He didn’t have to ask her before he dumped two spoons of sugar and a dollop of cream in her cup. Handing it to her as she joined him at the table, he tried not to jump when she instead of taking the cup, put her hand over his.

“Rumple,” she started with a shy smile. “I just wanted to thank you for being so kind…”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head in denial. He found an interesting pattern on the table and stared at it, trying to avoid eye contact until she let go of his hand. The warmth of her seeped into his skin and traveled straight to his chest where it was burning away in a pleasant way that made him want to do foolish things like take her in his arms or play with her hair…

“No really,” she was now lowering his hand so the teacup rested on the table before she moved closer, squeezing his hand in hers.

Blinking owlishly at her, Rumplestitlskin tried desperately to think of something, anything to break the spell before he did something foolish like lean in and breathe in her particular scent. 

Instead, he caught a dust mote floating in the sunlight and pulled it towards them with a magical twist of his pinkie finger.

“I know we’ve had some rough patches,” Belle was saying, ignorant of his mental breakdown. “But these past few weeks have been –“

What they were he never got to find out, because the dust mote found its intended target and with a small lady like sneeze, Belle dropped his hand in mortification as she inhaled the dust mote.

With another convulsion of her petite frame, Belle sneezed again. And then again. Her eyes blinked in surprise before starting to water slightly as another sneeze overcame her.

Fighting the panic building in him at the thought of permanently breaking his little maid, Rumplestitlskin reached out to steady her, placing his hand on her shoulder as he peered into her face. She tried to twist away from him as she continued to sneeze into the crook of her arm. He stubbornly remained where he was, uncaring if she happened to sneeze on him.

After the sixth sneeze faded away, Belle took a shaky breath. A thousand apologies rose to his lips but he continued to just gaze into her face, trying to figure out if she was all right.

Smiling gently at him, she reached up and squeezed his hand that was on her shoulder. He managed to keep himself from coloring. He hoped. She cocked her head all the way to the side to put her cheek against her hand.

It was roughly in this minute that he stopped breathing. Through the warm palm of their hands, he could feel the downy satin of her cheek, warm and flushed from her sneezing fit.

“Rumple?” She asked gently, concern in her eyes as she took in his shell-shocked expression. “Are you okay?”

And then, before he confessed to her that he wanted nothing more than to feel her lips against his, Rumplestitlskin pulled his hand away as if burned.

She blinked at him for a moment before smiling as if nothing had happened. She turned to collect the teacup from the table before settling herself across from him and opening her book.

“Do you…” she began with some hesitation as he sat heavily down in his own seat. “Do you mind if I practice while I read?”

He shook his head, curls slapping the side of his face as if admonishing him.

He didn’t care. For the second she opened her mouth, and the low groaning moaning noises of a giant elk emanated from those perfect lips, he sat there and listened.

It was worth it, he told himself as she smiled sweetly at him in between practicing the note scale.

Beside, he thought as an answering smile spread across his face, he had a ball of wax upstairs that would suit perfectly as a pair of earplugs.


End file.
